


Keep You Afloat

by Legendgrass



Series: Summertime [2]
Category: She-Ra and the Princesses of Power (2018)
Genre: Established Relationship, F/F, Facing Fears, Fluff, Happy Ending, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Pool Party, Swimming Pools, catra hates water, catra hates weaver, catradora, one year after Second Chance, she overcomes both
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-16
Updated: 2020-07-16
Packaged: 2021-03-05 02:28:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,326
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25316794
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Legendgrass/pseuds/Legendgrass
Summary: “Are these Bright Moon jerks going to have a summer get-togethereveryyear now?”“I certainly hope so."...One year after the events of Second Chance, Adora helps Catra face her demons.
Relationships: Adora/Catra (She-Ra), Bow/Glimmer (She-Ra), Mermista/Sea Hawk (She-Ra), Perfuma/Scorpia (She-Ra)
Series: Summertime [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1833751
Comments: 15
Kudos: 128





	Keep You Afloat

**Author's Note:**

> I know stuff like this has been done before, but c'mon, it's a necessity
> 
> You don't have to read Second Chance in order to follow this but, I mean,,, I recommend it of course ;)

“Are these Bright Moon jerks going to have a summer get-together _every_ year now?” Catra griped, not for the first time this trip. She had her gaze aimed stubbornly out the window of Adora’s FJ Cruiser, a testament to just how much she’d rather be literally _anywhere_ other than on the way to Mermista’s Mira’s summer pool party.

“I certainly hope so,” Adora replied brightly. She glanced away from the road long enough to give her girlfriend a smile, and they both knew the unspoken context behind that phrase: _It worked out pretty well last year._

And, Catra thought with a slight softening of her mood, it had. If it weren’t for those Bright Moon jerks, as she (mostly) affectionately called them, she never would have reconnected with Adora last summer. They never would have repaired their damaged friendship, and they certainly never would have ended up where they were now: a year into a healthy, loving relationship that Catra couldn’t have even imagined before their trip to Salineas Resort.

She supposed she owed the annoying snobs at least a little bit, which was why she resisted the urge to bail out of the car going fifty-five miles per hour just now.

“I just wish it didn’t always have to revolve around water,” she admitted with a shudder. There was only one time she’d ever enjoyed being immersed in water, and that was solely because she’d had her first kiss with Adora there. The problem wasn’t necessarily that Catra didn’t like _water;_ she just didn’t like being _wet._ The aversion had been ingrained in her since the very first time Shivaun Weaver forced her bodily into a freezing bath and it had only gotten worse since then. It was no surprise she’d never learned how to swim.

“You don’t have to get in.” Adora smiled reassuringly again, reaching over to run a fond hand over Catra’s now-short-cropped hair. And -

These kinds of easy, familiar touches had become commonplace between them over the past blissful year. That was kind of a side effect of the whole _dating_ thing, after all. To Catra, though, every contact remained just as powerful as that first kiss they’d shared back at the Salineas pool. She just couldn’t get used to having Adora within her grasp. Having her all to herself. Having her love as a constant in her life rather than the fleeting, forever-out-of-reach dream that it had been for so long.

But as much as Catra enjoyed the way her girlfriend’s touch lingered on the back of her neck, she wasn’t totally mollified. She still didn’t want to go to this party. _If Sea Hawk splashes me with one of his stupid cannonballs, I want permission to drown him,_ was on the tip of her tongue, in fact, but she elected to hold back her surly comment because she knew how much this event meant to Adora. The blonde hadn’t gotten to see most of her sparkly friends in a year since most of them split off to separate colleges after last summer. Catra, for one, had kept her fill of Adora by following her to Etheria University in the fall (it _wasn’t_ because she liked her! (okay maybe it was)), so she figured she could bite the bullet for the Bright Moon nerds’ sake just this once. 

As Adora pulled her hand away, Catra caught it mid-retreat and laced their fingers together. The glow of a blush that rose to the blonde’s cheeks told Catra that maybe her girlfriend wasn’t quite used to this sort of luxury yet, either. 

Hand secure in the love of her life’s, Catra didn’t complain for the rest of the trip. 

As the Miras’ mansion rose up on the horizon as they got close, though, her heart quickened as the prospect of seeing all of Adora’s friends again loomed up in tandem. It wasn’t that she was _scared,_ per se; she was just, you know, healthily wary. She had no idea what to expect from any of them after a year apart.

 _It will be fine!_ Adora had assured her more than once, but Catra was both religiously pessimistic and bad with people, so she wasn’t totally convinced. Now, Adora squeezed her hand as if to back up her words; reminding Catra that she wouldn’t have to face this alone. Catra squeezed gratefully back.

It was another few minutes before they pulled into the Miras’ driveway and began the steep descent down toward the mansion. From their higher ground, Catra could see the pond out back that she’d noticed last year. Now that it was filled with figures in blindingly bright swimsuits, though, she realized that it was actually one of those fancy plant-filtered swimming ponds, complete with a volleyball net and a deck on one side. She supposed she shouldn’t have expected anything less from the filthy-rich princess’s family.

The pool passed out of view as they reached the base of the driveway where a wood gate blocked them off from the backyard. The others’ cars were already crowded into the space by the triple garage: Bow’s gold minivan, Scorpia’s SUV with the eyelashes, Glimmer’s hideous pink Volkswagen. The only ones missing were Perfuma’s Nissan Leaf and Entrapta’s lavender Vespa, but Catra figured Perfuma was here with Scorpia (she, for one, certainly hadn’t seen _that_ relationship coming). She was a little concerned about Entrapta, though. She’d been hoping to reconnect with both of her old Horde buddies today. Maybe the techie was just late.

Adora pulled her Cruiser in behind Bow’s van and shut off the engine. In the sudden relative silence, Catra could hear playful shrieks and laughter floating from the gated backyard. Her anxiety intensified.

Adora was the first out of the car. Keys dangling from her finger, she circled around to Catra’s side and crossed her arms beneath her dopiest smile. “You ready?” she asked, and her voice was softer than her expression suggested.

Catra groaned noncommittally as she levered herself out of her seat and reached back in to the floorboard for their bag of pool stuff—towels, an overshirt for Adora, some drinks—before replying, “Ready as I’ll ever be.” As soon as she straightened, her girlfriend reached to relieve her of the bag, but Catra leaned out of reach. “I got it,” she said. She was still trying to teach Adora that she didn’t have to be so self-sacrificing all the time.

Adora, usually such a fast learner, was awfully slow on the uptake. She tried to protest, “But -”

“Let’s _go,_ idiot. Your friends are waiting,” Catra cut her off with a nudge toward the gate.

Adora huffed, but she let the brunette push her between the others’ cars to the gate. She still got her daily dose of chivalry in by opening the door for her girlfriend since her hands were full, and Catra rolled her eyes.

Stepping through the gate into the backyard was like a sucker-punch to the social battery. The place was a mess of activity.

Bow and Perfuma were in the pool waging a light war across the volleyball net. Frosta sat on the deck nearby watching them, probably waiting to get in the water until her sunscreen soaked in. Sea Hawk was lighting tiki torches at the corners of the pool deck even though the sun was still hours above the horizon. Mermista was setting up a snack and drink display, and Glimmer was making a beeline for the alcohol without even giving her a chance to finish. Scorpia was grilling, her back to them, and it was really an impressive sight thanks to the strategic cutout in her black top. Entrapta didn’t seem to be there yet.

The moment Adora and Catra made it through the gate, they were met with scattered greetings and cheers. Catra could see her girlfriend’s face light up instantly at the reception.

Glimmer was closest and thus best equipped to rush Adora right off the bat. She ran up and hugged her enthusiastically with White Claw still in hand, shrieking, “You’re here! It feels like it’s been _forever!_ ” Adora’s response was muffled by the puffy pink hair now arranged in an asymmetrical swoop.

Catra was in the middle of exchanging a wave with Scorpia across the yard when Glimmer then turned and pounced on _her,_ planting a big, obnoxious kiss on her cheek while she was distracted. Catra reeled. “What the _heck,_ Sparkles!” she demanded, swiping the moisture off her cheek as she willed a scowl to her flaming face. Had the princess been hitting the booze already? A quick glance told her that Adora was unperturbed, and Bow even threw them a humorous, “Awww,” from the pool, so she figured there was no harm done, but still—what the heck?

Glimmer raised her drink in a mocking salute and cracked it open, grinning. So maybe it was the booze. “It’s just so good to _see_ you two!” she gushed, and it didn’t even sound passive aggressive. Looks like Adora and Catra weren’t the only ones to experience progress since last year. 

Then the princess waggled her eyebrows and gestured between them, voice suggestive as she asked, “So, how’s _Catradora_ going?”

“Canon!” chirped Frosta from beside the pool. When Catra turned her scowl on the youngster, she retreated like a frightened frog into the water.

But the irritation was an act, really. Catradora really was _canon,_ as Frosta put it (for whatever reason), and Catra couldn’t be happier about it. She expressed this by rearranging the bag in her arms so she could twine her fingers with Adora’s, and when her girlfriend began cheerily, “We’re good! We—” Catra leaned over and interrupted her with a deliberate kiss. There was another round of cheers, and Glimmer’s was the loudest.

As they drew back Catra saw Adora’s blush. “Sorry,” she whispered so the others couldn’t hear. She hadn’t really asked if Adora was cool with PDA in front of her friends, and a little twinge of old panic was entering her gut.

But Adora returned with an “I love you,” just as soft, so Catra figured it was okay. And in that case, she couldn’t resist another little peck on the lips.

Glimmer was going to shatter their eardrums.

“Well come on, you two; join the party!” she pressed once she was done squealing.

And so they did.

It wasn’t as horrible as Catra had thought, really. It was easy enough to grab a lemonade from Mermista’s snack spread and stake out a shady lounge chair on the pool deck. The fish girl herself came over to welcome her with a bored tone even Catra struggled to match, but afterward they joined forces to wreak havoc on Sea Hawk’s ego together (he could take it, Mermista assured). They remained aloof from the action until Bow, who must have been tired of losing his one-on-one volleyball game with Perfuma, called for a team tournament and Mermista hopped right up at the chance to beat her boyfriend into the turf.

“Wanna come with, sourpuss?” she drawled to Catra as she headed for the pool.

Catra shook her head and flashed a canine in a crooked smirk. “The view is better from here,” she claimed. And it was a valid excuse, considering Adora in her bright red swim top was quite the sight to behold when shimmering with a layer of pool water. Her shoulders were reddening too under the sun, but that just added to the effect. 

When the blonde glanced over at her, Catra gave her a flirty little wave. She could see the momentary flash of disappointment in Adora’s blue eyes before she covered it with a smile and her heart sank just a fraction.

 _Why am I so screwed up?_ she wondered for the millionth time in her life.

The game began without her, and for the next half hour, Catra lounged in her chair, high and dry, watching Adora and the others go at it. She tried not to feel left out. She really did. This was her decision, after all. She could have been over there lobbing the volleyball back and forth with the rest of them; sharing in the collective celebrations and disappointments of the match. She could have been over there by Adora’s side, basking in her competitive radiance up close instead of catching glimpses of it through the crowd of the other students’ bodies. She could have been enjoying herself like the rest of them if she wanted to. Really. Right? 

Except it wasn’t that easy. Nothing ever was. This was a fear that had been drilled into her over a lifetime; an aversion that she couldn’t simply let go of. Weaver had left her mark on Catra, and she had made it deep.

But to Catra’s comfort, she wasn’t the only one who didn’t join the game. Scorpia was busy at the grill, and Glimmer sat out once Bow wisely reminded her, “Alcohol and pools don’t mix!” 

Catra was about to go say hi to her old Horde pal when the whine of a Vespa echoed down from the driveway, marking Entrapta’s arrival.

 _Finally! More backup,_ Catra thought with a hint of relief. It was only afterward that she wondered why she was thinking in terms of a fight. These people were her friends, she told herself. She didn’t have anything to fear from them. Except maybe Sea Hawk, who had just taken an interest in the alcohol spread. Catra willed Entrapta to get over here faster.

Except -

When the purple-haired Horde grad finally killed her scooter engine and made it through the gate, it was— _what the heck?—_ hand-in-hand with principal Hordak of Keston High School.

Or, more aptly, _former_ principal Hordak.

Catra had heard the news from Scorpia about halfway through the winter: some weird school district drama had led to a merger in which Keston High School got absorbed into some larger, nicer (read: richer) school called Prime Academy, leaving Hordak out of a job. Not long after, the Prime principal got fired when a long history of domestic abuse came to light under some convenient circumstances. Everybody knew that there was only one person who could have ferreted out that man’s deeply buried criminal record and leaked it without getting caught, but nobody was too keen on getting Entrapta in trouble for it, so it stayed a thinly veiled mystery.

Sort of like the _thing_ that was apparently going on between her and Hordak now. Catra silently added that to the list of relationships she never would have seen coming in a million years.

Regardless of the fact that there wasn’t technically anything wrong with it, since Entrapta wasn’t Hordak’s student anymore and he wasn’t really _that_ much older than her, it still rubbed everybody the wrong way. Some more than others, as was made evident when Mermista grumbled none-too-quietly, “So, are we all just like, okay with this?” as the pair sat down _very_ close together on the same lounge seat.

Luckily Frosta was there to break the awkward silence by pointing out Sea Hawk trying to firebend one of the tiki torches and retorting, “Are _you_ okay with _that?_ ”

When she received no support, Mermista huffily dropped the subject, and Entrapdak didn’t receive any more grief.

Catra supposed she was happy for her friend and her…relationship. But now she _really_ had to go talk to Scorpia.

She tried to look as discreet as possible as she got up from her chair and circled the pool deck to the grill. Scorpia stood in the thick of the heat waves coming off the machine, her back to the water. She didn’t notice Catra’s approach until the brunette stepped right up behind her and cleared her throat.

“Hey,” Catra greeted.

Scorpia started so violently that she almost flipped a burger patty onto the ground. She recovered fast, though, whirling around to face Catra with the biggest smile on her face and her spatula still in her port-wine-stained hand. “Oh, hi, Catra!” she gushed, throwing her arms out as if for a hug and then letting them drop again. “I would hug you right now, but this spatula is really hot.”

“That’s okay,” Catra assured quickly, grateful to escape the prospect of any physical contact in this searing summer heat. Then she stepped closer to lean up toward Scorpia’s ear, getting to the matter eating at the front of her mind. “Did you know about that?” she hissed, gesturing subtly toward Entrapta and her new…boyfriend? who were ogling the solar-paneled umbrella topping the nearest picnic table (again: filthy-rich princess).

“What?” Scorpia very unsubtly turned her head to follow Catra’s motion, and Catra stifled a sigh. Her eyes widened when they landed on the pair. “Oh, Entrapta and Hordak? Yeah! Did I forget to tell you?” Entrapta must have caught her look, because Scorpia smiled and waved.

Catra stared at her, dead-eyed. How could you just _forget_ something as earthshaking as your old friend dating your old _principal?_ If it were Catra, she would have whipped out her phone and started interrogating people right away—just like she was doing right now.

Scorpia went to scratch the back of her undercut bashfully under Catra’s look but stopped when she realized there was still a really hot spatula in her hand. “Hah, sorry, Wildcat! I guess it just slipped my mind. I’ve been busy with school and Perfuma and helping my mom and—”

“So this is a recent thing?” Catra cut her off and then felt slightly bad about it. That was something she might have done a year ago. She was trying to be better than that.

Scorpia was graciously unbothered. “Yeah! Since the merger.” At Catra’s perturbed look, she went on: “You know that’s why she dug up dirt on Prime, right? To get Hordak his job back?”

“Oh.” Catra hadn’t known that, but she supposed it made a lot of sense. She should have kept in better touch with her friends; she’d save herself a lot of unhealthy shocks. That reminded her: “So what about you and Perfuma?”

Scorpia’s blush was instant, and Catra felt a flood of fondness for her big-hearted friend. “That’s pretty recent too, actually. We ran into each other at Whole Foods ‘cause I was looking for tiny food for Entrapta and she was looking for that organic vegan stuff and we got to talking and we just really seemed to connect, you know? And I asked her to lunch and we just kept meeting up after that and I guess that counts as a dating-type situation and honestly I couldn’t be happier!”

Catra couldn’t help the big, genuine smile that crawled over her face. She was so glad Scorpia was finally making the connections she deserved. The big softie had put up with Catra’s crap for longer than anyone and never bat an eye; she deserved paradise for her saintly patience. And if she found that in Perfuma, well, good for her. “I’m happy for you, Scorpia,” she said, and meant it.

“Thanks, Wildcat.” Scorpia returned the grin, twice as bright. Then she moved as if she were about to step forward and hug Catra, but stopped. ”Right. Spatula still hot,” she reminded herself and dropped her arms.

Catra rolled her eyes. She reached out and plucked the spatula from her friend’s hand and laid it on the side tray of the grill. Then she opened her arms. Summer heat be darned.

Scorpia gasped loudly. “I don’t believe it!” she crowed. She surged forward and swept the smaller girl into her arms and hugged her with all the force in her massive bodybuilder muscles. “You’re hugging me back!”

Catra grimaced into Scorpia’s beefy shoulder as all the air was effectively crushed out of her. “Yeah,” she croaked out, “I’m full of surprises.”

“Oh, sorry!” Scorpia seemed to realize that she was inches from shattering Catra’s spine and quickly released her. When she pulled back, she was still smiling, though. “I just don’t know what I would do without you, Wildcat.”

Catra opened her mouth to answer, but not before a smoky scent hit her nostrils and her attention cut to the grill in a panic. Were the burgers burning? Apparently so; Scorpia followed her gaze and gasped, leaping for her spatula again to rescue the patties from their crispy fate. She managed to scoop them onto a row of paper plates with minimal collateral damage.

“Sorry about that,” Catra grumbled, but Scorpia waved her off with one gracious red-stained hand.

“Here you go.” She plopped a plate into Catra’s hands so the beefy smell wafted all around her. She motioned with a free elbow toward a table set up a few steps away, which had buns and condiments spread on its surface. “Extra cheese, right?”

Catra again felt herself smile. Scorpia was such a good friend. She always tried to remember all the little things, even if to her chagrin she still hadn’t been able to figure out everything (like Catra’s favorite number). “Yeah. Thanks, Scorp,” the brunette commended—not just for the burger—and headed toward the indicated table for her extra cheese. 

Behind her, she could hear the bigger girl calling to the others that the food was ready. A great splashing accompanied the immediate exit of all the volleyball players from the pool, and in a moment Scorpia was mobbed. Perfuma got there first, giving her partner a grateful peck on the cheek as she handed her a veggie patty. Catra finished making her burger and retreated quickly to avoid being trampled.

Back at her chair, she curled up with her plate to make herself as scarce as possible, loath to draw the overwhelming attention of the Bright Moon crowd. The only one she wanted to notice her was Adora. She eyed her girlfriend’s back with all the energy she could muster, hoping she could somehow beckon her over by the heat of her gaze alone.

Wow, she was clingy. Yet another thing she had to work on.

Whether called over by Catra’s clingy brain waves or not, Adora finished preparing her plate and escaped the crush of people around the grill pretty soon, making a beeline for her girlfriend. Catra tried not to let her heart start pounding with the mix of excitement and anxiety that had become the norm whenever the blonde approached—they’d been together for a _year,_ for Pete’s sake! She had no reason to get this nervous anymore.

Well—almost no reason. She hadn’t ever really been able to shake the echoes of Weaver’s condemnations from the recesses of her mind. She was working on that, too.

In any case, Catra’s discomfort slipped away to be replaced by warmth when Adora came and sat on the ground next to her, shoulder bumping up against the brunette’s leg to keep contact while getting the least amount of pool water on her possible.

“Hey,” the blonde greeted lightly, smiling before raising her burger to take an obscenely huge bite. Charming.

Catra sure was charmed. She laughed and nudged Adora with her knee hard enough to make her lose a few potato chips off her plate, which earned her an elbow in retaliation. It was novel to Catra how this sort of playfulness had never really left them; not since childhood—not even for the year that they were apart, rivals at different schools. She smiled warmly at the girl she’d always loved, even when she hated her, and leaned down to run her sharp nails through damp blonde hair.

“You’re burned,” she observed as she got a closer look at Adora’s well-built shoulders, now flaming pink. She let her hand slip free of her ponytail and instead trailed gentle fingers over the damaged skin. “Didn’t you put on any sunscreen?”

Adora shivered slightly even though it was pushing ninety degrees out here and shook her head. “I forgot. I’ll guess I’ll have to get you to rub some aloe on it later,” she returned with a wink.

Catra rolled her eyes to cover a blush. She might have shot back something flirty just to make Adora squirm, but just then Bow and Sea Hawk began sauntering over, arm-in-arm and halfway through an obnoxious sea chanty, Mermista trailing behind like she was the one third wheeling.

“Greetings, friends!” Sea Hawk hollered after the final verse, and Catra wondered why he was even louder than usual until she noticed the Corona in his free hand. For a bunch of goody-two-shoes, the Bright Mooners were awfully fond of their underage drinking.

“Hi, Adora! Hi, Catra!” Bow put in just as loud, but his enthusiasm didn’t need any alcoholic assistance to reach staggering heights. He waved, nearly clotheslining Mermista, who groaned dramatically.

“Hey, we’re here. Don’t make a big deal out of it,” was her halfhearted contribution.

Adora laughed sunnily and invited them to sit on the lounge chairs nearby, and Catra’s private moment with her girlfriend was effectively cut off. She tried not to be annoyed.

Catra found that it was easier to withstand a conversation with the Bright Moon nerds when Adora was there as a buffer, though. She sipped at the canned lemonade from their pool bag as Mermista, Bow and Sea Hawk sat down and began regaling the two of them with their various exploits since last summer. Catra was only half listening, but she picked up on the important bits and pieces: Sea Hawk had landed another lifeguarding job to support himself while he worked through tech school. Bow was already an officer of his college’s Makers Community, and Mermista had received an internship opportunity through a guy her dad knew, and she’d spent most of the summer at the coast studying dolphins or something. 

It all sounded pretty exciting. Way more exciting than Catra’s own life, in which the brightest spot was always Adora, and her work and school schedules tended to blend into a haze of dull monotony. Pretty soon Catra’s thoughts drifted away from the pool deck and toward her usual negative wallowings. She had no idea what she wanted to do with her life. She was in college for art, but she’d spent enough time under Weaver’s thumb to become intimately familiar with the idea that ‘artists don’t make any money.’ Maybe that’s why she was slacking off on her work. Maybe that’s why she could never pay attention in class because she was preoccupied with the ever-present anxiety simmering deep in her gut. Leave it to Weaver to ruin her life even when she wasn’t a part of it anymore.

Catra became suddenly aware that the conversation had gone quiet. She looked up with a touch of panic, wondering if someone had asked her a question and she’d been too zoned out to notice. Her gaze fell on Adora, naturally, and found that those burning blue eyes were already locked intently on her. 

_Oh, crap._

“Uh, what?” she rasped nervously, not totally sure what that look was for. She really had to start paying attention if she wanted to keep a better handle on her relationships than she had on her schoolwork.

“I want to teach you how to swim,” Adora said like maybe she was having to repeat it.

A pit opened instantly in Catra’s stomach. The pressure of Adora’s shoulder against her leg suddenly felt uncomfortable; claustrophobic. She glanced at the others, uncertain about how much she wanted to reveal in public, and then back to Adora with a warning look. “Adora, you know I don’t—”

“I know,” the blonde agreed quickly. Catra could tell the truth in her eyes. _Good. She remembers._ “But I want to fix it,” Adora continued softly, earnestly, her attention trained on only Catra. “I want to help you.” Those few words could have summed up her entire character and it was both endearing and exhausting. Catra was tired of Adora feeling like she had to fix things that weren’t her fault. Things that couldn’t be fixed.

Like Catra.

The brunette looked away, feeling crushed under the weight of her girlfriend’s intense gaze.

Mermista and Sea Hawk shared a glance. Then the fish girl elbowed her boyfriend, and he ventured, timidly for once in his life, “Are we missing something here?”

Bow, ever the empath, swooped in to the girls’ rescue. “I think this is a conversation we should let you two have in private,” he said, looking deliberately at each of his companions as he said it before turning back to the girls. “It was nice catching up with you guys!” He stood quickly and then paused. His mother hen instincts must have been catching up. “I’ll just, uh, be getting a dessert if you need me.”

Mermista was sharp enough to follow him with a mumbled farewell. Her boyfriend, though, required some manhandling to get him to catch on and leave the girls some space. They could hear him protesting as Mermista dragged him toward the drinks. As if he needed another.

In their absence, Adora levered herself off the ground to sit on the edge of Catra’s lounge chair, her back to the pool so that she and her girlfriend were closed off from the action somewhat. Catra was almost afraid of what the conversation would bring next. She trusted Adora with her whole heart, but she wasn’t convinced that now was the time to face the twisted struggles of her past, and that seemed to be the direction her girlfriend was going. Catra felt the need to speak first in an attempt to head her off at the pass:

“Adora, I don’t think we need to do this.”

“I do,” replied Adora, the softness in her voice almost painful to bear.

Catra could feel herself withdrawing; retreating from the pressure. She tried not to let her old go-to instinct—anger—take her over. It still sounded strained when she measured out, “Well, it’s my problem, so shouldn’t I get to decide?”

Adora reached out and rested her hand over Catra’s, and it was then that Catra realized she’d been digging her nails into her own bicep. The blonde coaxed them free and laced their fingers together. “We’re together, Catra. It’s _our_ problem as long as it’s hurting you,” she said in that same gentle tone.

“It’s not hurting me!” Catra burst out, pulling away to cross her arms. “Don’t you see that I’m fine? I’m perfectly happy to sit over here while the rest of you marinade in a big saltwater stewpot of each other’s filth.”

Adora sighed. “You’re deflecting.”

“Oh, look, there _is_ a brain behind that massive forehead of yours,” Catra snapped at the statement of the obvious.

As soon as it was out of her mouth she regretted it. The way Adora turned away, brows twitching together in the picture of suppressed hurt, made her stomach drop into her toes. She reached for her girlfriend and clung on, feeling old emotions flash through her mind with the speed of a riffled deck of cards—guilt, regret, fear, longing—and blurted, “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean that.” She palmed Adora’s cheek and turned her gently back to face her. “I’m sorry,” she repeated, then looked away. “You’re right; I’m deflecting because I’m scared. And upset. And believe me, I wish this was a problem you could just swoop in and magically fix, but you know why I—why I can’t—” She struggled for the rest.

Adora sighed and closed her eyes beneath Catra’s touch. It wasn’t a sign of pity, like Catra may have once thought, but sympathy. When she opened them again, they were damp. Her voice was ever so slightly shaky when she said, “You deserve to be free of her influence.”

Catra almost gasped at the way those words hit her right in the heart. 

_Deserve._ Her whole childhood, she’d been inundated with Weaver’s words of scorn and degradation. All she’d ever heard that she _deserved_ was even less than she’d had. She’d been called wild, unruly, hopeless, unloveable. She’d been told that she deserved to be put in a cage. That she deserved to be passed over by every family that came to the orphanage. That she deserved to rot alone.

To hear right now, from Adora, that what she really deserved was the exact contradiction to all that was—a lot.

A sob escaped her throat unexpectedly, and she slapped her hand over her mouth to smother it. A wide-eyed glance around told her that no one had heard but Adora, which was a blessing.

Adora was a blessing. As soon as she saw that Catra was starting to cry, she leaned in and wrapped her in strong arms, uncaring of the dampness that still clung to her swimsuit. Her warmth overpowered it all anyway, and Catra found herself pressing greedily into her girlfriend’s touch before she even knew what she was doing. Another sob, and another, wracked her chest but she kept them quiet against Adora’s shoulder.

“You deserve to be free,” the blonde said again close to her ear. Then, as if she somehow knew that Catra desperately needed to hear it, she added softly, “You deserve to be loved.”

Catra’s chest heaved again, and she curled her fingers into the slick polyester of Adora’s swimsuit. She wasn’t sure why this was all hitting her so hard. She knew that Adora loved her. She’d known it for a year. She’d known it even before then, maybe, subconsciously. But this was different. This somehow implied that maybe…maybe it wasn’t just Adora. Maybe Weaver hadn’t just been wrong about the two of them; she’d been wrong about _everything._

Catra hadn’t even realized that she still believed that woman’s curses until now.

It was fitting that Adora should be the one to show her the light. When they finally pulled apart, in fact, the light was literally making her glow. As the sun set behind her it turned her golden hair molten, and the combination of the sight and the feelings and _Adora_ took Catra’s breath away.

“Okay,” she agreed on a shaky exhale.

The way the blonde brightened matched the luminance of the sunset. “You’re sure?” she checked, just because she was Adora and Adora was perfect.

Catra swallowed down the lump in her throat and smiled. “Yeah.”

Somehow the blonde’s own grin grew wider, and before Catra knew what was happening, they were both on their feet and Adora was pulling her toward the water. The sudden reality of what she was about to do hit Catra like a punch, and instinctively she resisted. When Adora looked back with a spark and a question in her blue eyes, though, some of her old fear slid away. 

“Just…stay with me while I do it. Okay?” she asked meekly.

Adora squeezed her hand. “Of course, dummy.”

“Hey!” Catra let a laugh bubble up through a throat sore from crying. “That’s my line.”

“What are you going to do about it?” Adora challenged, her grin going crooked, and Catra saw a glimpse of the gap-toothed little girl that she’d met in that orphanage a lifetime ago. It was fitting, somehow, that Adora was there for Catra’s bad times as well as her good. She was there when Catra first grew to loathe things like water and weakness and intimacy, and she was here now to show her that maybe those things weren’t so bad. Adora was her constant; her rock. As long as she was there to hold onto, Catra could do anything.

Right now Catra lunged playfully after as she skipped away from vengeful claws. Adora’s retreat took her right to the edge of the pool. Catra supposed she shouldn’t have been surprised when the blonde jumped in without hesitation. Water lapped up over the edge of the deck from the impact, and Catra froze before it could touch her feet. She was left high and dry, literally, while Adora smirked softly up at her from the water.

“Gotta get in to catch me,” the blonde teased, and held out her hands for her partner.

Catra eyed her entreaty warily. Now, standing on the edge, she wasn’t so sure she wanted to go through with this. She could just… _symbolically_ beat Weaver’s oppression, couldn’t she? “Do I have to jump?” she grumbled out.

Adora shrugged. “There’s stairs,” she offered alternatively, tipping her head toward the narrow end of the pond.

From where Catra stood, the stairs looked more like an uninviting dirt ramp, but she figured a gradual ease into this watery hell would be preferable to simply diving in. She started pacing around the pool deck to the entry. Adora waded over to stay close to her.

By this point, everyone else had vacated the pool and settled down with their respective partners and desserts. Maybe the water had chilled too much for their tastes, maybe they’d gotten tired or tipsy, or maybe they were just smart enough to give Catra and Adora some relatively-alone time, but whatever the reason, Catra was grateful that nobody was within dunking range of her.

She reached the earthen stairs and stopped right at the edge of the water, screwing up her face in the picture of disgust. Her fists were clenching by her sides and she could see her reflection echoing the pose back at her, radiating fear that she hated. She had the sudden urge to stomp on the mirrored picture of her, but that would mean putting her foot in the water.

 _Ugh._ Why did things always have to be so complicated?

Adora’s reaching hand, outstretched to her again, came into view like a beacon of hope. There was something that wasn’t complicated—not anymore: Adora. Catra could trust Adora, even if she couldn’t trust herself.

She tore her gaze away from her reflection—tiny, tense, afraid—and focused on her girlfriend instead. Adora stood in the waist-deep water like a buoy chained to the bottom, steady and dependable. She wasn’t going anywhere. Her hand still hovered in the space between them. 

Catra reached out and took it. The contact seemed to chase away her fear and doubt, replacing it with all the bubbling feelings that consumed her when Adora was near— _better_ feelings. It felt like relief.

“You can do it,” Adora encouraged gently, only to Catra, and somehow Catra believed her.

She tightened her grip on the blonde’s hand like it was a lifeline as she ventured her foot toward the water, gritting her teeth in anticipation of the shock.

The first touch of the pool water was cold, but Catra grimaced and kept herself from recoiling. Instead she advanced with her other foot, taking a step deeper so the clingy wet chill reached up to her shin, cursing internally the whole time. Another step, and she was in past her knee. She kept her mind on Adora and her warmth rather than the water and its cold, and that alone kept her breathing from speeding out of control.

“That’s it,” Adora affirmed, still in soft tones that managed to be only loving; never patronizing. She backed up a step, hand still in Catra’s, leading her deeper in. “See? You’ve got it.”

Catra was too focused on her breathing and her sweating hand and the _cold_ to feel very comforted, but she loved that Adora was trying. She loved that she was always so patient; so kind; so supportive, when Catra hardly deserved it. Catra loved Adora. She had loved her for as long as she could remember, but never so strongly as now.

So she kept wading in, deeper and deeper, until she was standing solidly on the pool floor and she was up to her ribs in pressing, clinging liquid hell. It somehow wasn’t as bad as she’d expected. Maybe it was just because of Adora.

Even as she thought it, the blonde reached out for Catra’s other hand and pulled her close; safe, so there was hardly a gap between them. The water moved in narrow ripples between their bodies, pushed out of the space by their closeness. At this distance, Catra could feel the heat radiating off her girlfriend’s sunburned skin, and the most important part of the landscape was her shining blue eyes.

As nice as that was, Catra had only taken the first step. Adora still expected her to _swim,_ which effectively put a damper on the serenity of the moment. The anxiety that had briefly left her in the face of Adora’s comfort trickled back, full force.

“Do I have to do it when everyone’s watching?” Catra wondered uncomfortably.

“Nobody’s watching,” Adora said, low and tender, and Catra had no idea how she’d known that without breaking their eye contact, but when she looked around she found that Adora was right. It was a marginal weight off Catra’s chest.

But, “I still don’t want to do it,” she admitted guiltily, because even in the protective circle of Adora’s care, she wasn’t quite strong enough to ward off her fear.

“You don’t have to.” Adora’s voice was perfectly serious, and the look in her eyes matched. She loosened her grip on Catra’s hands as if to let her pull away. “I just…want you to.”

Catra sighed and slumped against her perfect girlfriend in defeat, resting her forehead against her damp collarbone. “I can never say no to you.”

Adora hummed a gentle laugh and smoothed her hands up Catra’s back soothingly. “Should I show you how to doggie paddle?” she asked, and Catra could hear the silly smirk in her voice without even looking.

“Ha-ha. Very ironic,” she grated out without looking up. She had her eyes locked on the water like it might leap up and attack her if she stopped paying attention.

Adora, of course, noticed. She brought a hand under Catra’s chin and tilted her head up gently. “It’s okay,” she murmured to Catra alone, and though the brunette felt her heart swell at the assurance, she just couldn’t unwind her tense muscles.

She just—really didn’t like being in the water. It made her slow and it pressed in on her and it made her clothes soggy and sticky and gross and it was cold and the cold reminded her of— 

“Hey.” Adora broke her out of her spiral by pressing their brows together, and her touch chased off the cold. “It’s _okay_.” Her voice was a whisper this time. “I’ve got you.”

And—

She did. She always had. Catra was relieved by this fact combined with Adora’s arms wrapping around her, and she could feel the tension slipping from her shoulders.

Without either of them speaking, Catra knew that they were thinking the same age-old promise: _nothing really bad can happen as long as we have each other._

And that was all she needed to take a leap of faith. To dive in, if you will. 

She let out her breath in a shudder and drew back just enough to look into her girlfriend’s eyes. “Okay,” she conceded in almost a whisper. “Let’s do this, princess.”

And so they did.

Catra trusted Adora to keep her afloat as the blonde walked her through the motions of kicking and stroking and breathing and all the moving parts that made up this thing called swimming. And Adora did: she stayed always within arm’s reach; always with her hand beneath Catra’s stomach to support her should she start to sink; always watchful and gentle and patient and perfect. “You’re doing great, Catra,” became her favorite phrase, and somehow it never grew empty. For the millionth time Catra was overwhelmed with just how much she loved this girl.

It was thirty minutes later that Adora let Catra’s feet settle back to the bottom and gave her a fond little smile.

“You’re doing so good,” she commended, and the sparkle in her beautiful eyes said that she meant it. Then, the terrifying question: “Want to try a little farther out?”

Catra let out her breath in a slow, tense sigh. She really didn’t, but she figured that this was the next logical step in defeating her demons, so she nodded timidly anyway. As Adora began shuffling backward toward the deeper end of the pool, Catra made herself follow, trying not to pay attention to the feeling of the water climbing up around her chest.

They moved slowly, Adora giving Catra time to adjust with every little change in depth. Catra ran over and over her girlfriend’s instructions in her head, trying to remember whether she was supposed to move her arms or her legs first and whether she was supposed to breathe on her left side or right. She got so entangled in her thoughts that she didn’t even notice the moment Adora stopped beside her and she took a step too far, into the section of the pool where the water turned sharply to a darker, deeper blue.

The bottom dropped out from beneath her feet, and with it went everything Adora had just spent half an hour teaching her.

Catra’s head began to slip under and she panicked.

“A-adora!” she gasped out frantically, flailing in the water for a grip on her other half.

But Adora already had her; had her the whole time, with hands hovering an inch from her waist only to close in and wrap around her now. She supported Catra effortlessly, bringing her head back above water with firm and reassuring hands, pulling her back into the stretch where her feet could touch bottom.

“Sorry,” Catra breathed shakily as she regained her wits and embarrassment began to flood in like so much pool water. She dropped her eyes. “I panicked.”

“It’s okay,” Adora said in such a way that Catra was convinced that it _was._ “Let’s try it again. Remember to kick. That’s what’ll keep you afloat.” She loosened her hands around the brunette’s waist and this time Catra breathed to dispel her fear.

She breathed deep, and steady, and felt her heartbeat steady with it. She looked into Adora’s loving blue eyes and found the same steadiness there and realized that it had been there the whole time—always.

 _You can do it,_ Adora’s voice sounded in her mind, gentle and bolstering, just like Adora’s presence before her now. _You can do it._ It sounded louder, clearer, than all the murmurings and musings of the other voice that had lived in her head for so long—the one that sounded like Weaver. And for once, Catra was able to listen to this new voice instead of the old one _._ She didn’t _have_ to listen to Weaver anymore. She had Adora. She had Scorpia and Entrapta and the Bright Moon jerks and they were all so much more bright and real and present than the old, nagging fears of her past and in that instant, Catra finally took hold of that realization. She could be _free._ But it was up to her to choose which voice to listen to.

And she would always choose Adora.

_You can do it._

Catra pushed off the bottom of the pool, let her grip on Adora loosen and then slide away _—_

And swam.

It was a brand new feeling for Catra to be buoyed up by the water rather than being dragged down. It was new to feel her kicks and strokes control the liquid surface rather than letting it control her. It was new to feel capable in the water rather than helpless, and it was _freeing._

Catra could hear Adora and her friends cheering behind her as she kept _herself_ afloat for once, tracking through the water by her own strength to the opposite side of the pool. She felt like cheering, too.

When Catra made it to the edge, she latched on and swiped the wet hair out of her eyes with her free hand, breathing deep from the exertion, but breathing easily for once. She felt…better. 

“Catra!” When the brunette looked back, Adora’s grin was lighting up the night brighter than the tiki torches. “You did it!”

Catra tried a little smile and levered herself up onto the edge of the pool deck to rest. “You sound surprised, princess.”

“No,” Adora disagreed, then corrected, “I’m proud.” She side-stroked over to Catra’s side of the pool and nudged herself between her girlfriend’s legs, hands against the edge bracketing her on either side. She tipped her head up at the same time Catra leaned down and her next words were a breath into the narrow space between their lips: “I’m so proud of you.”

Catra had no idea how many hits to the heart like that she could take in one night without having a medical emergency. But, she figured, if she died right now she would die happy.

She reached up to bury her hands in her girlfriend’s hair and managed through the crushing warm pressure in her chest, “I love you.”

Based on the hitch in Adora’s own breath, Catra wasn’t the only one drowning in her own pool of feelings right now. The blonde pressed herself closer and switched her grip from the pool edge to Catra’s hips and, without another word, closed the distance between them. 

Catra leaned into her desperately. She was aware of the rest of the group cheering around them— _again—_ and couldn’t find it within herself to care. She was too caught up in Adora—her hands, her lips, her hair, her _love,_ and she was content with that. She had no idea when she would stop feeling absolutely floored by every one of those feelings, but she hoped it would be never.

In her perfect world they would love each other like this forever: wholly and purely and _freely_ , with no shadows of the past holding them back.

And judging by the way Adora held her; kissed her; _had_ her, they were well on their way.

... 


End file.
